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MEMOIR
The Girl At My Father’s Funeral
The one thing you can’t control is other people.
At one point, I was really into caves. I convinced my parents that we should drive south to Kentucky to visit Mammoth Cave, and then hit Ruby Falls in Tennessee and whatever other large holes in the ground we came across.
Now, this was when I was young. I rode roller coasters back then, and drove too fast, and had no problem with going under the ground and squeezing through rock formations with names like Fat Man’s Lament. All things that now seem completely insane.
So, we’re however many feet under the surface of the earth, and our group has gathered obediently on one shore of a large underground lake while the tour guide prepares to deliver a speech from a lectern that’s been placed on the other side.
The only problem is that someone from the group has decided that they are going to deliver a speech from the lectern, and they won’t budge.
As a teenager, I thought this was both wonderful and horrifying. I was mortified that this was happening, but thrilled because it defied all norms of behavior. People could just do whatever they wanted to do?
